Waving Flag
by Whyntir
Summary: Ludwig Beilschmidt has trained ten long, hard years to become the best Meister the SWMA has ever seen, but when he is partnered with an air-headed Italian, the chemistry just doesn't seem to add up! Hetalia Characters ONLY! Various characters, and teams.
1. Chapter 1: Arrival at the SWMA

He had come a long way, as they all had. From every four corners of the earth they had been called from their respective schools and it had been a long time coming. He traveled all the way from Germany to this island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean to finally come to the main branch of Soul Academy. After working six long, hard years he had finally gained recognition, and with him being the top of the class by a virtual landslide, he was the only one to be called from Berlin in the past ten years to meet the Headmaster of all the schools worldwide. Even more so, he would be the first Meister of German decent in over two hundred years. Ludwig sighed heavily and ran a hand through his blonde, slicked hair. After all the years of hard work, training, and dedication, he was finally selected to serve the Keeper of Souls with a weapon partner. He felt the butterflies tickling his insides in anticipation as he thought about his new partner. He didn't even know who it would be just yet. Apparently they were to be united under the blessings of the Headmaster before being sent on various missions.

Two bodies flying past him almost caused him to fall down the two hundred and forty-seven stairs he had just climbed, barely grabbing a rail just in time. "Alfred! Slow down! You're going to kill someone if you keep this up!" a soft voice called. Ludwig looked up to see two boys who looked closely related dashing up the stairs. Or rather, one was rushing up the remaining steps with the other practically flying by his arm. They were both dressed in the blue suits of the school uniform, matching the one Ludwig himself wore, but they seemed more at home in the city-like academy. The main difference between the German and the two other boys hiking their way up the stairs were the bands of cloth that encased their upper arms. The black cross of blades under the physical embodiment of souls signaled their position as weapons, which explained everything. Weapons were trained by the personal weapons of the Keeper of Souls, also known as The Guardians or Protectors.

The one in the lead had brilliant golden hair with a stubborn cowlick standing erect from his bangs. From what the German had caught of the other's appearance, he had deep, ocean blue eyes framed by glasses. The other had longer hair and a stray curl that made him look all the more innocent with eyes that were much paler in comparison to the others, making it look more lavender than blue. "If we're late to the opening ceremony, _we're_ gonna be dead! He'll kill us!" They took the steps two at a time until they crossed over the top and disappeared through the entrance arch of the school. Ludwig raised a questioning brow at such peculiar antics. There was still ten minutes left before the opening ceremony and he began to wonder if they had the right time. The more he thought about it as he trudged up the stairs, the more he questioned. Did those boys have it right? Did he have it right? Had he left room for those unforeseen "Just-in-Case" scenarios? He began to doubt himself and his own understanding of facts and directions until he was almost running up the stairs at a breakneck speed and through the arch.

Trees were in bloom during the chilly months of not-quite-Spring, and the long lonely nights of the not-quite-Winter. The flowers that flitted lightly down from the branches shed light pink petals to the gentle wind that caressed the leaves, causing them to dance on their stems. A path cut between the columns of trees, leading deeper into the school and into his future, casting him farther from who he used to be. Ludwig felt a great pride swelling in his chest as he made his way through the rain of velvet petals. While there was that nagging fear that clung to him, despite his most valiant of efforts, he also felt a growing calm fill him as he continued on his way. The buildings on either side of him were constructed of old bricks and completed with high, stained-glass windows.

There was no mistake; this was the most peaceful place on earth. With the high-peaked rooftops and the sweet scent of cherry-blossoms, Ludwig could not imagine a more calming scenery than this. He took a deep breath, savoring the taste of the fresh and clean air. To live here, it was surly a dream come true. A smile tugged at his lips, despite the seriousness of the situation he was entering.

"_Ve~_, they're very pretty, aren't they?" a voice, bubbling with energy commented off to his left. Ludwig turned to be met with a shorter boy, perhaps a year or two younger than himself, looking up at the falling petals with large brown eyes. His brown hair blew in the breeze, a stray curl of hair protruded oddly at an angle. His uniform was slightly different than Ludwig's, having the blue plaid pants and white uniform shirt with the black tie, but he wore only the beige, sweater instead of the light blue school jacket. It was a fashionable choice; Ludwig had to admit. The light tan colour really set off his eyes, making the bronze gaze alluring and hard to pull away from. The brunette smiled sweetly, his hands clasped placidly behind his back as he turned his attention to the German in the path. "You're one of the new Meisters, _si_? I'm Feliciano Vargas." The armband gave away his position of weapon.

"_Ja_, I am Ludwig Beilschmidt."

The bright eyes grew wider as the smiling lips turned into a small _'O'_, which was something he had expected to happen among those who heard his name. Beilschmidt was a name that anyone in the Soul Academies would recognize, especially in the main branch since it was the name of one of the instructors. Ten years ago, to the day, the Keeper of Souls had hand selected a student who had never attended his schools; who had never even shown up on the map. Ten years ago to the day, to perhaps the very hour, the weapon known as Gilbert Beilschmidt walked over this path, having been called away from his family and younger brother in Berlin.

Feliciano's smile returned, brighter than ever as he ran, or rather, pranced to Ludwig and took the taller boy's hand, catching the German off guard. He may have been mistaken, but there was a moment of a feeling that was much like being electrocuted, but not as painful. If he had to explain it, he would use the analogy of the click of two puzzle pieces coming together.

"You're Luddy! Gilby talks about you all the time! He can't wait to see you; it's been a long time since you ever heard from him, hasn't it? He has been acting funny ever since he heard that you had been chosen to come here!"

Ludwig's face flushed at the endearing name, no one ever shortened his name before. Especially since he wasn't very fond of pet names, but before he could say anything the boy turned behind him with a look of curious surprise. "Feli!" a voice called. The two boys from earlier on the stairs were down a side road calling for the brunette. The one with blue eyes was walking with his hands in his jacket pockets, the buttons undone making him look a little sloppy in appearance. The other wore their clothing properly, not really standing out much if he had been near any other students.

"Alfred! Mattie!" Feliciano called, turning his back on Ludwig to wave the attention of the other weapons, "Over here! You won't believe who I have with me!"

The two blondes looked up in surprise before the one with the open jacket jogged up the stairs and threw an amicable arm over the brunette's shoulders, "Who is this? Come on Feli, I'm ready to be amazed." In reality he sounded quite the opposite, looking rather suspicious and dull. The blue eyed one spoke with a strange accent Ludwig had never heard before in his entire life.

"Alfred," the other boy, through the process of elimination that made this one Mattie, sighed, "you don't need to put up an attitude with the new boy. I know you don't like Meisters but you can't very well wield yourself." The violet eyed boy smiled and held a hand out to shake with the German, "I'm Matthew Williams. This is my brother Alfred Jones. He's from America, I was raised in Canada."

Ludwig shook his hand stiffly, feeling quite out of place with the trio before him, "How can you be brothers when you were both raised so very far from each other."

"Well, we're half-brothers. I'm the older one and I stayed with my father while my mother went off to America. What was your name again?"

"Beilschmidt." There was a brief silence before that was shattered by the rather rude language of the American as he scowled and looked away.

Feliciano smiled sweetly and pat Alfred on the shoulder, "We should be going, the opening ceremony is starting soon and the other Meisters are already at the courtyard. They'll be wondering where the weapons are." Without waiting, he took Ludwig's hand again (and there was that connection again) and ran down the stairs with the two brothers following behind.

"No one would be looking for you Feli," Alfred laughed as they ran through the side streets towards the heart of the city. Wonder what that comment was for.

What Ludwig noted was that all the students lived on their own, virtually adults in their own right. The buildings were like a combination of dorms and apartments, towering high in the tight confines of the school grounds which sprawled out to its limits on the four-by-three mile island. From the training Ludwig had put himself under before arriving, he could run the entire perimeter, twice, and still not break a sweat. As they continued, he could see the front gates of the school, which took up at least forty percent of the surface area. By this time, other students were coming into view, even some persons of whom he guessed was the staff.

"The bloody hell have you gits been!" a student ahead shouted, he was also a weapon, and with the growing members in their group, Ludwig was feeling more and more out of place.

Feli leaned over to Ludwig and whispered, "Arthur Kirkland, Alfred and Mattie's cousin from Britain. He's really funny, but gets mad easy, and when he's mad he's _scary_!"

"The entire purpose of whispering is so the object of the conversation cannot hear you Feliciano," a short, rather angry looking young man with the same sunny blonde hair as the two brothers growled. That didn't catch his attention however. No, it was the terrifyingly thick, creepy-crawler, bushy eyebrows. The German almost slapped the newcomer across the face to rid him of the hairy caterpillars that had somehow crawled just above the poor boy's eyes. It took him a few seconds to realize those were the boy's eyebrows, though he couldn't believe eyebrows could be like, well, _THAT!_

Feli jumped and cried, clinging onto Ludwig tightly, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! I surrender!" The German winced at how loud the Italian's screams were. Hopefully he wouldn't have to get used to this touchy-feely stuff. He wasn't really one for so much physical contact.

"Yes, yes, I _know_ you surrender! That's all you're really good for," the British boy barked, older than the other three, he carried the air of an adult. It actually made him appear pompous and arrogant to Ludwig, even though he himself had that same disposition. The green eyes met the sky blue as Arthur looked the German up and down, "You're a new face; if you're looking for the other Meisters they're over there." He threw his thumb over his shoulder to another group of students, all wearing armbands similar to his own.

"Yes, thank you. I will see you all at the ceremony shortly I guess." Ludwig pried Feliciano loose from his shirt and started toward the other group.

Feli waved him off, "See you soon!"

That boy was so peculiar, but maybe it was just because he was an Italian. He had heard that Italians were stereotypically like that, though that may be unfair to any Italians . . . In the Meister group there were two other boys that stood out the most to him, despite the crowds, or perhaps it was because the others in the crowd were relatively normal compare to these ones. The first he noticed was really because he was tall, very tall for someone with such a young face. And this being an island in the southern Pacific, the scarf draped snuggly about his neck was so out of place it was wrong. His nose was a little bigger than average, but everything was a little bigger than average about the young man. Everything from his height to his round, plump cheeks that carried a healthy flush and even the large violet eyes that made it seem as though a child was decapitated and their head placed on this man's shoulders. The thought was rather disturbing.

The other Meister he had noted wasn't tall, or out of dress code, or even spectacular to be worthy of noticing. That is, if he wasn't groping a fellow Weapon Meister, and Ludwig also highlighted the fact that it was another _male_; though by the looks of some of the female onlookers, he had no preference. The boy being molested was a brunette and was obviously not enjoying the brash actions. The tall, scarf-clad young man also seemed interested in the mousy boy caught in the perverted blonde's grasp, but they had a degree of similarities. If it wasn't for obvious genetic differences, they could have been related. Tensions were building in the Meister group; that went without saying. Especially since the taller student looked . . . sadistically angry.

"Ah! I-Ivan, it was just harmless fun! I don't mean anything by it!" the blonde cowered, hiding behind his latest victim who looked like he wanted to tip over and die, poor kid.

The Meister with the beige scarf smiled childishly, a cruel glint in his baby-like violet eyes, "Your fun is illegal in many countries Francis Bonnefoy. If I were you, I'd educate myself of laws regarding sexual harassment."

The way both of them talked, they were defiantly not from the same country, and the names gave everything away. Ludwig wondered how they all knew each other, but they had probably had contact for the past few hours, or more. The German entered the group soundlessly, no one really taking note of him as he watched the events unfolding. Apparently the French boy, Francis, decided to take a break from his hobby. Lucky too, Ludwig arrived at the best possible time.

Ivan was chatting quietly with Toris, his Lithuanian friend from the school situated in the Northern section of Europe. What he wasn't too fond of was that his little sister was with him . . . somewhere. She jumped out at the most random times, terrifying him to tears as she demanded marriage. After their elder sister Katyusha was called away to the SWMA, Ivan had to become the adult at age ten and he just couldn't discipline the small girl. This caused some babying, coddling, favoritism, and . . . one-sided possessive love. Not from him, it was her. All her. And fuck was she scary! She was most likely lost somewhere in the school; Ivan must've given her the slip. And though it was cruel to leave her calling for him and attacking random civilians, he really didn't care for the collateral damage. Better them than him as he would say. And if she found him with little Toris, well, it wouldn't be the first time his hands were made useless. But the Lithuanian always bounced back, much like a Jack-in-a-Box.

"I-I wonder when the Headmaster will arrive," the brunette stuttered. He was no more comfortable standing beside an aggravated Ivan than he was in the grasp of a perverted Frenchman. One could even say that it was a 'From-Bad-to-Worse' situation.

The tall Russian nodded contemplatively, "It is quite rude to keep us waiting such a long time, and the ceremony starts in three minutes. I would think he would have appeared by now."

"Perhaps he is ill?"

Ivan smiled, "Toris, that is a very dumb thought, I find it amusing." Toris' face coloured in shame, why did Ivan always have to be so harsh? It always came down on him of all people!

Ludwig watched the exchanges with a quirked brow. Many were like himself, having just arrived and still carrying suitcases and bags. Others, like Ivan and Toris, had arrived beforehand and were already settled into the homes they would occupy with whoever their Weapons would be. Speaking of Weapons, Ludwig scanned the surrounding area in hopes of finding his brother. The only thing he had of the albino was a ten year old picture of the two of them the day he left. A small little prayer wormed its way into his mind as he sighed in defeat, not finding anyone who looked even remotely like the older Beilschmidt.

'_Please let him be here. I have to see him again.'_

* * *

><p>"There're a lot of them this year, but the weapons still outnumber the Meisters. Some are going to be disappointed. It's a little cruel we round up all the Weapons, but keep a tight funnel on the Meisters coming in, don't you think?" the laid back young man sat on the window sill, watching the groups gather. The Weapons watched the Meisters shyly and the Meisters stood there a bit awkward like. It was cute, sort of like the Basket Boy Auctions in High School. "At least these Meisters have the decency not to look at the weapons like merchandise."<p>

A shorter man with dark brown eyes that reflected years his body did not show stood beside him, looking out to the growing crowds of last minute arrivals. "This year there is only one more Weapon than Meister, but I doubt that will be a problem. I am quite curious about the blonde on the outskirts of the Meister group. He doesn't mingle and stands distant to both groups."

The first speaker snickered, "That was always Ludwig. My baby brother has hardly changed. He's grown into a fine young man."

"What has caught my attention is the fact that he has already found his Weapon."

The red eyes turned to the dark brown with surprise written all over the pale face. The other Meisters would have two weeks to find their Weapons, more than enough time to do so, but Ludwig had only just arrived and he had immediately found the Weapon to complement him! A cocky grin then pulled at the courners of the albino's lips. "Just like his big brother huh? It's because we share that _Awesome_ _Gene_ that runs in the Beilschmidt family."

"And you're not curious to hear who it was?"

"Who? Was it the Brit, if it was the Brit I'm going to laugh my ass off."

"No, it was your student, Feliciano Vargas."

The albino blinked as the information processed before laughing obnoxiously loud, "Oh is that boy in for a surprise!"


	2. Chapter 2: Team up

"_It's been so long!"_

"_Quiet! Some one will hear you crying you big baby!"_

"_Sorry. I've just missed you."_

"_This isn't just a reunion, remember that. We have important business here."_

"_Right. And what of the others?"_

"_They're right where I want them. They think they have all the power in this situation, oh how blind they are. The little boy has no idea we're using him and not the other way around."_

"_I feel a little bad for him."_

"_Don't, once we have the new Meisters in our hands, we can finally take down the Keeper. After three hundred years, it's time to disrupt this ancient order. Chaos and madness will rule the earth and we will be at the head of it all. Now we must hurry back. This conversation never happened."_

"_Yes ma'am."_

* * *

><p>Squirming in his seat, Feliciano waited rather impatiently for time to pass. Why did everything seem to move so slowly! And being Italian he didn't mind the long days that dragged on forever, except when they were <em>this<em> stressful! He was one of the older students, his age inching upon nineteen despite his youthful appearance which caused most of the other students to think of him as thirteen, perhaps fifteen if he was lucky. Regardless of looks and expectations, he had been in the Academy for over ten years without finding his partner. Over ten years and not one Meister matched his Soul Wave Length properly to actually wield him as a weapon. Gloom started to settle over him as he slouched forward in his chair, hands fisting the knees of his pants. Most of the other weapons felt he was useless anyway, worthless as a weapon. He was a waste of space in the classes and should have been allowed back to his family. The only one who ever believed in him was the Guardian Gilbert. Where other teachers overlooked him, Gilbert took special care to show him that not matter the weapon, everyone is strong. He straightened his back, the bronze eyes holding that gleam of overwhelming determination. Holding onto the Weapon legacy of two hundred years, he wanted to keep his family proud.

* * *

><p>Alfred was just as nervous. He was a weapon who had only arrived less than three years ago. He excelled in all his classes, which was the only reason he was at this ceremony, but he had been told by the Headmaster that he was an odd-one-out. To Alfred F. Jones, who swore to be the most awesome weapon of all time, those words left a deep feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. What if he didn't find his Meister this year? What if there wasn't one for him next year! He was a totally awesome Weapon damn it! He took after his English cousin more than his half-brother, but he was way better than either of them! He sat in the front row of the Weapons section in the assembly hall, rubbing his clammy hands on his thighs as he bit his bottom lip.<p>

"Alfie?" Matthew whispered, "Are you alright?"

Alfred nodded, his expression having a more Deer-in-the-Headlights feel about it. The Canadian sighed and sat back in his chair. He was used to being passed over since the other Meisters never seemed to see him in the past five years he had attended SWMA. Every year it was the same thing and Mattie had just about given up on ever being chosen. He still had a ways to go to reach Feliciano status. Twelve years of being overlooked and purposefully avoided was a horrible fate, but if the past had anything to say about it, Alfred would get chosen and Mattie would have company on the bench. Then again, he also noted that there was only one more Weapon-to-Meister ratio. A small feeling of elation washed over him. Most likely no one would match up with Feli, but that meant Mattie had a good chance this year. He could have danced in the aisle if the clock tower outside the building hadn't started ringing. Everyone silenced and paid attention to the front. The Meisters were in awe while the Weapons sat in respect.

Headmaster Kiku Honda, also known as The Keeper of Souls stood at the podium, seemingly appearing out of thin air. On either side of him were two of the four Guardians he had taken as his personal Weapons. Sitting closest to him on the right side was the renowned albino from Berlin, Gilbert Beilschmidt. The red eyed Weapon had no official classes, he chose his own student. One could only imagine how upset the entire school was to hear that Feliciano Vargas was the one he chose. Beside him was the laidback Hercules Karpusi of Athens. As a teacher, he was always a bit on the drowsy side and way lax in his rules. As long as no one was seriously hurt, they could do whatever. And if he was talking the class had better shut up. He had a worrisome temper when it came down to the bones. On Headmaster Honda's immediate left was Professor Yao Wang, but the students endearingly called him Yao. He was a fun teacher, taking in the young ones who just arrived and teaching them the basics about control and Soul Wave Lengths and how it affected everything they did as people. He also smuggled yummy little snacks for them and played whatever game they could think up. He was the closest thing to a mother any of them had contact with. Sadiq Adnan from Ankara, Turkey sat on the far left, as far as he could get from the Greek on the right. The two had some rivalry going since they were in the SWMA as kids and it was never really solved. Sadiq was also a really cool teacher, though loud and a little more than a bit pompous. All of them were the best of the best, and that was what all of them strove to become.

"Good morning everyone and welcome to the main branch of the Soul Weapon Meister Academy; I am Headmaster Kiku Honda, also known as the Keeper of Souls. It is my pleasure to meet you all who have come from afar to be here today. I know you have all worked hard, Weapon and Meister alike, to reach the point in your lives where you are united with your lifelong partner. For a Weapon and Meister to form a bond, they must be in sync with their partner's Soul Wave Lengths, and you have all been taught how that comes about by emotional and mental harmony. It is also predestined. Each of you was born to be with your partner for the rest of your lives. In a sense, this union between Meister and Weapon is one of marriage. You are one soul yoked together through mutual trust and understanding. It will not always be a flawless transition, but it will bear great fruitage as time goes on," Headmaster Honda spoke slowly, great wisdom dripping off every syllable, "I am sure many of you believed you would be assigned your partners this day and be ready to accept the missions others have been assigned. I apologize deeply if you thought this way, but the truth of the situation is that I cannot assign each of you together, you must mingle amongst yourselves and find one another. You will know when you have found your other half, I promise you. You will have until midnight tonight to find your destined halves. If you have any questions, my partners will aid you. At the strike of twelve we will all convene here once again. I wish you all good luck."

He stepped away from the podium and bowed, seeming to fade from sight until he disappeared altogether in a small flurry of cherry blossom petals. The Weapons were used to these kinds of exits, Headmaster Honda was a _Shinigami_ after all; how else would he have lived for so many years. Rumours were bordering on three thousand years now, and still rising. The Meisters and Weapons sat uncomfortably, tensions rising as some worried about being chosen, others worried about how their partner would be.

The Guardians sat watching them with amusement, almost like watching little white mice struggle through a maze. The Albino grinned as he zoned in on his younger brother who sat in the far back of the Meister group before suddenly standing up, clapping his hands, "What are you all doing sitting there. You heard the man; you have until midnight, which means twelve hours exactly to find your match. Now get on your feet and move your asses! Don't worry if you think you may have missed the one, the Keeper will know who you are supposed to be with the moment you touch them. So be friendly, shake hands and no throwing punches without a referee."

Ludwig's hand contacted his forehead; his brother hadn't changed at all in ten years. _TEN YEARS _and the idiot was stillthe same obnoxious, arrogant, loud, vulgar kid at heart. And seeing that there were ten years between them, Ludwig did wonder how he turned out so normal. The other Meisters also got the hint and stood, the Weapons mounting their own courage and following suit. The German noted a small girl, only as high as his shoulders, walk purposefully into the Weapons group and grabbed a taller girl by the arm. They looked related, so it was safe to assume that they were sisters, though the Weapon was much more . . . endowed than the other.

"Katyusha!" the Russian, Ivan cried out and suddenly hugged the busty girl who laughed and wrapper her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the ground.

"Oh Ivan! You're so tall! I remember when you were so tiny! I have missed you both so much!"

Before Ludwig really had any time to do anything, he felt a hand plant down on his head, "Didn't think you could get away from me little brother, did you?" that arrogant, but comforting voice laughed beside his shoulder. What really did upset Ludwig, however, was the fact that his slicked back hair was now a mess, no thanks to the albino who had no sense of dress.

The younger swatted the hand away and glared as he fixed the blond locks, "I would never dream of it. You were always hypersensitive to your surroundings. How have you been?"

"Getting old," the elder laughed, plopping down in the empty seat beside him, "And look at you! You were big enough to fit in my arms when I left, now you're an intelligent young man."

"And taller."

"Eh?"

"You left when you were my age, I'm taller than you were then," Ludwig explained, closing his blue eyes as he thought back to the scratch marks on the door frame. His thoughts were cut off by his uniform jacket suddenly being pulled up and dragging him into standing position. There was a very awkward silence that followed as Ludwig looked _down_ to his elder brother. He could visibly see Gilbert's brow twitching in disbelief.

"_THIS IS SO NOT AWESOME!_"

* * *

><p>Alfred was getting desperate, though only his brother and Arthur could tell. He was shaking hands and striking up hearty conversation with charisma. Despite what most though, Alfred was rather depressing. Ever since he found out he had an older brother in Canada, he hadn't gotten along well with his mother, which dampened his personality as well as his mood. He had been getting better over time, but never had he been <em>this<em> energetic. He had one goal on his mind: Shake hands with _everyone_. That way he would have an ace in the hole. He wouldn't be left behind! Matthew wasn't going to complain either. When he stood beside Alfred, the American insisted that he do the same. As it was, there were only a few left before they could sit back and wait.

"That's all of them!" Alfred exclaimed, looking back to Arthur who stared back rather deadpan.

"You're missing one."

The blonde looked one way, then the other as he tried to look for a face he didn't recognize. One awesome talent of the hero: Rapid visual memorization. Anyone who was his partner would have no trouble in infiltration missions. He looked back to Arthur and shrugged. The Englishman pointed to the back of the group and the blue eyes followed. At the other end of the trail stood a tall guy with sandy blonde hair and a beige scarf. Oh yeah, Alfred did miss him . . . _ON PURPOSE_! He spun back and glared at Arthur, "I would never shake a commie's hand!"

"And when you don't get chosen because he was your complement?"

Alfred's eyes darkened, "You dare even suggest that?"

"I am simply stating," Arthur yawned, "I just know that opposites attract."

"Then why don't you go and shake the Frenchie's hand!" he hissed, pointing to the blonde man who was flirting with a brunette girl. He was being more cordial than Arthur had seen before when the brothers had run off to look for Feliciano. His thick eyebrow twitched, but Alfred had a point.

"Fine, but you have to greet the Russian," he snapped and turned on his heels to introduce himself to the Frenchman.

Alfred's jaw dropped, "No . . . way . . ."

"I'll go with you Alfred," Matthew assured him, pushing him towards their new target. It seemed the American didn't have much of a choice. The two weaved through the crowd and reached the Russian who looked utterly surprised to be noticed. He had been too shy, and with the sun having set and three more hours to go, he had worried he'd be going home. Alfred held out his hand begrudgingly, his animosity not affecting the taller boy, "Hi, Alfred F. Jones, nice to meet you."

Ivan smiled warmly, "Ivan Braginsky, it's a pleasure." He took Alfred's hand and there was a sort snap as their hands met that Alfred had never felt before. His eyes widened fractionally as he stared at their hands before mentally shaking himself out of it.

"And this is my big brother Mattie," he introduced the other quickly.

"Hello," Matthew smiled and held out his left hand. Unlike his brother, or their cousin Arthur, he was left handed like his father. Without hesitation Ivan switched hands and they shook. Mattie's violet-blue eyes widened as well, there was that click for him too! "Ah, you . . ."

"Ambidextrous," he explained with that childish smile, "Left or right, it makes no difference to me. You are both weapons, _da_?"

"Yes. Alfred here is a sickle," Matthew started, only to be pulled close in a crushing hug by the younger.

"And Mattie is an oversized hammer!"

Ivan blinked for a moment, "And you are both brothers?" They nodded and he suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. Oh this was just too good!

"Hey!" Alfred snapped, "What are you laughing at you behemoth!"

He wiped tears from his violet eyes and pointed to Alfred, "A sickle," then Matthew, "And a hammer!"

Matthew suddenly connected the dots. All these years and he never knew! He couldn't help but giggled. "Hey, what's so funny?" Oh yeah, that's right. He paled slightly before whispering the answer in Alfred's ear. The American became paper white before practically fainting, only to be caught by Ivan.

"What happened to him?"

"Communism."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Arthur stood a ways away, making sure Alfred upheld his part of the bargain. Once Ivan clasped the boy's hand he turned back to his part of the deal. The Frenchman had scared off yet another Weapon who looked thoroughly violated, which only helped to weaken Arthur's resolve. But no, as a gentleman, he would uphold his end of the deal. He took a deep breath before gathering his nerve and walking up to the taller blonde. His eyes were the colour of Speedwell flowers, the blue ones of course. The young man had a small patch of stubble which made him a tat more attractive, and his long face framed by the wavy curtain of blonde hair. The English man furrowed his brow and held out his hand, "Arthur Kirkland, weapon."<p>

The blue eyes widened in horror as he stared at the Englishman, "_WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS ABOVE YOUR EYES!"_

Courtesy flew out the window as Arthur's hand bitch slapped the Frog across the face.

* * *

><p>Time wore on and Feliciano chewed on his thumb. Just five more minutes until everyone else was chosen but himself. He felt the gloom clouds gathering as he surrendered to his fate. No one would want him as a weapon anyway. Arthur was right, he was utterly useless. A hand clasped his shoulder and he gasped in surprise, wheeling around to come face-to-face with his teacher. "Oh, you startled me Gilby," he sighed, relaxing back into his chair.<p>

"What's the matter? I've been watching all day and you've done nothing but say hello to a few people and stayed seated. That will never get you noticed Feli," he scolded gently, flicking the Italian's forehead, "Don't tell me you're throwing in the towel already."

"It doesn't matter. Like you said, my Soul Wave Lengths are unpredictable, that it was almost impossible for anyone to sync them," Feliciano sighed.

The clock suddenly struck midnight and Kiku appeared at the podium, the other guardians filtering back to his side. The albino ruffled the brunette's hair, "Sometimes I wish you remembered the things that actually mattered." He stood and followed the others, sitting in their respective seats as the students filtered back.

"I hope that this afternoon has been very enlightening to you, and that you all took the opportunity to meet your classmates. Now, it is time for me to assign your teams, immediately after Weapons and Meisters will return to their respective rooms. If you arrived late meet with Yao and he will inform you of where you will be staying. Later this day Weapons will move in with their Meister partners and classes will begin," he paused briefly straightening out his white uniform, "Now it is my pleasure to present this year's new teams; Weapon Feliks Łukasiewicz and Meister Toris Laurinaitis." The audience clapped politely, though they all wondered more for themselves. As names were called and teams were formed, the worry started to grow; especially on the Weapon side. Alfred fidgeted in his seat as himself, his brother, his cousin, the busty girl, and Feli were the last ones in their seats.

"Weapon Katyusha Braginskya and Meister Natalya Arlovskaya." The two sisters united before the podium before returning to seats on the Meister side, there were only three left! Arthur also looked mighty uncomfortable, glancing worriedly that he would be the one left out. The only person he had really gone into contact with had been that bloody Frog!

"Weapon Arthur Kirkland," his heart leapt as he jumped to his feet, "And Meister Francis Bonnefoy." As the other blonde rose to his feet, Arthur felt faint.

'_Oh bloody hell!'_

* * *

><p>Arthur snickered under his breath as he watched his cousin glare daggers as they united before the Keeper, the bruise still prominent across the Frenchman's cheek as he smiled tautly. They sat side-by-side with the other teams, immediately moving as far from each other as they could. Why did Alfred have the feeling they were going to be paired up?<p>

"Weapon Matthew Williams," the quiet boy's eyes grew large as dish plates as he jumped to his feet, "Meister Ivan Braginsky," the tall Russian stood on the other side, smiling broadly. Alfred felt his heart sink as he slouched forward, his life seeming to end, "And Weapon Alfred Jones." His head shot up quickly as his name was called, jumping to his feet. A Meister with two weapons? Oh hell if he was going to complain! He grabbed Mattie's hand and dashed to the podium as Ivan took his time. Their union was blessed and Alfred was so happy he could cry.

Feli looked over to the Meister side and felt his heart speed up in his chest. There was one Meister left over. There was one Weapon left over. His bronze eyes filling with hope. "Weapon Feliciano Vargas and Meister Ludwig Beilschmidt." The two of them stood and approached the podium, Feli's legs shaking with every step. Once both stood, looking into each other's faces, Feliciano felt that this truly was meant to be. Yes, his Meister was younger than him, but that just meant that he had to be more patient, and look how it had paid off! The keeper recited his blessings and held his hand out above them. They took each other's hands and Feli felt his Soul extend into his Meister, he felt their union, and suddenly the front of the stage was illuminated by a brilliant light.

Ludwig looked away, his eyes burning from how bright it was. This had never happened with the others! He felt as though something had changed. When the light died and the German dared open his eyes, in his hand was no longer the Italian, but a white flag.

"Oh my," the flag stuttered, a white orb at the top of the black pole coloured a pink as though the flag were blushing, "This is so embarrassing." Ludwig's eye twitched. This was his weapon?

_A WHITE FLAG!_


	3. Chapter 3: First Mission

He slammed his fist against the wall, anger radiating off of him in crushing waves. The other backed away nervously, his hands raised in surrender as he worried what would become of him. Why did he always have to find out? Even after he went through a ton of trouble just to keep it hidden! It had already been a week, but that made no difference.

"And why did I learn of this so _LATE_!" the Italian shouted his fist clenched so tight that his nails dug into the skin and drew blood, "You useless, worthless, stupid person!"

His Meister cowered back slightly, "I-I'm sorry Lovi, I would have told you sooner, but I was worried about . . ."

"Worried about what you pathetic loaf!" Lovino had tears glossing his eyes, his face heated in rage at the thought that his little brother now had a Meister! Yes, yes, Lovino had a Meister as well, but that was because of his weapon, he couldn't really wield himself. Not only that, but it was very easy to tell who was in charge with the relationship. His anger was at a boiling point, now Feli was just a tool to be used by some Meister who would take all the glory for the Italian's hard work!

Antonio whimpered quietly as his Weapon towered over him. Why did he feel like this was entirely his fault? How was it his fault? He just wanted to keep it hidden for a little while longer, why did those blasted witches have to come back and tell his little Lovi everything? Now it would all rain down on his head. Suddenly there was a giggle and the Spaniard turned to see the Italian bent forward, his chocolate brown hair covering his green eyes as he chuckled under his breath. "L-Lovi?"

"We're going on a little road trip Antonio, to Sicily. I'll free little brother, even if it kills you." The Spaniard bowed his head in gloom. Why was he the one always getting trampled on when Lovino talked on and on about the forced servitude of Weapons to Meisters? It was rather ironic. Regardless, he trudged to his feet and went to pack their bags.

* * *

><p>"Luddy~!" Feliciano called from the small kitchen. He was still so embarrassed about what had happened a week ago at the opening ceremony. He had never planned on syncing with his Meister so easily, actually it was never heard of. It was as though, after Headmaster Honda recited the blessings, a paper thin wall that had kept them separated had been lifted. Through the wall he had felt their <em>compatibility<em>, but it was practically impossible to sync instantly after uniting as a team! It took weeks to master each other's Soul Wave Lengths, but Ludwig's immediately accommodated his own irregular spikes. It was so peculiar.

Ludwig came out of his room dressed in the uniform, his hair still wet from his shower and falling over his forehead. What sort of Meister could he be now! How would any Kishin take him seriously if he entered battle with a _White Flag_ of all things! Regardless, it wasn't Feliciano's fault, so he shouldn't blame the Italian. He sat at the small table, a cup of coffee and a plate of home-made biscotti and brioche. They were still warm to the touch. The German grunted a thanks and started eating, trying to ignore the quiet Italian on the other side of the table. It wasn't that he didn't like Feliciano; it was just that he kept gazing at Ludwig with those big, luminous, bronze eyes like a kicked puppy. They made him feel guilty of something he didn't know he did.

He thought he would be able to get through breakfast without showing acknowledgement when the brunette looked away. Why did that make him feel even worse! He set down his eating utensils and looked to his Weapon Partner, "What's the matter Feliciano?"

"Oh! Ah," Feli stuttered, not ready for the sudden shatter of the wall of silence around them, "I-I was just thinking is all."

"About?" he pressed on, taking a sip from his coffee. It was amazing really. Together only a week and the Italian already knew the _exact_ way Ludwig made his coffee. It tasted even better than when he did it himself.

Feliciano twisted the white napkin between his hands, looking away and biting his lip, "The – un – Opening Ceremony. I-I-I . . . I'm sorry." His head bowed low in shame, "You could have been with Matthew, or Alfred, or someone else. But no, you got stuck with me," his grip tightened on the cloth, "A useless white flag."

"Feliciano . . ."

Before he could say any more, there was a musical knock on his door, "Hey, lil bro! Open up!" Gilbert's voice called through the wood panel. Right at the most inopportune moment! He sighed and stood from the table, throwing open the door. The Albino lounged against the frame, a little yellow bird on his head, hanging onto the snowy locks with an oversized paper in its small beak. The blonde frowned, though his eyes wandered curiously to the parchment, holding it closed was a wax seal of a cherry blossom. The bird peeped pass the paper and flipped its head toward the blonde. "Congratulations, you have just received your first assignment." The bird flew into the air and circled Ludwig twice before dropping the scroll into the blonde's hands before returning to its perch.

Ludwig stared at the paper for a moment before his eyes widened in surprise before he looked up to his brother, "Assignment? Isn't there training to go through first!"

"You already completed it," Gilbert chuckled, "Your Soul Wave Lengths synchronized so easily, the other teams need to learn how to work together. As it is, you get an unfair head start. I pity that Russian kid, not only is he stuck wielding two weapons of varying wavelengths to him, but also each other." The albino suddenly looked over his brother's shoulder and spotted the half-finished meal before laughing, "So that's why you're all so serious; you're trying to spend some quality time with your boyfriend."

He was met with a strong fist to the jaw.

* * *

><p><em>It has come to my attention of a Kishin egg that is forming in Sicily. I have chosen you to see into the matter as your first assignment. Do not worry over your capabilities; if anything should go awry I have a team on standby. Good luck on your first mission, I shall be watching your progress from here.<em>

A jolt of electrical energy danced up his spine, anticipating dancing inside his abdomen like butterflies. His first mission, so soon! With this streak, he could easily catch up to his elder brother's reputation; perhaps even surpass the obnoxious albino!

"Ve~, s-so soon?"

Oh yes, he had forgotten for a moment there. Whereas his brother had not only had a competent Meister, but nor was he something as useless as a _white flag_! What was he going to do! Surrender them to death! Was there something he was missing here or something? Why would they even keep Feliciano as a weapon, no offense meant to the other boy, but a when someone said _'Weapon'_ he never would have thought of a sheet on a stick. And, again, in no offense, what did they see in Feliciano? What possibly possessed them to keep him in the school?

"Well," Ludwig rolled back up the paper, "we had better get packing."

* * *

><p>Gilbert stood leaned against the arch of the meditation room, his Meister levitating over a black pool. Candles lined the walls, every one the same make and design, the colour of the flames ranging from orange-yellow, to green, to violet. The albino wasn't all that comfortable with sending his brother and student off to Europe, and after they just met last week. They had had no training that the others would receive in combat as they learned to sync Soul Wavelengths. The elder had even been instructed to not inform Ludwig of the little secret that surrounded the Italian. Damn the seal of loyalty.<p>

"So . . . whose gonna bail them out when they run into trouble," he asked, arms folded defiantly across his chest, "All of us are here, and they're being sent to that specific location because all our operatives have been flushed out by this Kishin."

"I am well aware of this Gilbert. Your concern for your brother is sweet, but laced with your aggressive nature only makes you all the more unpredictable." The Japanese man's soul expanded until it touched the surface of the darkness. The moment it made contact, the reflection became a portal; the candles changing from their unique array of colours to a unified blue, dancing in time to the even beat of the Keeper's Wavelengths. "I am sending you to watch your brother, but you are not allowed to act upon your own initiative. Your Meister will intervene when the time is right. There is another presence in Sicily, and only Ludwig and Feliciano can call it out."

The red eyes, turned violet in the reflection of the other's soul that enveloped the room, blinked in surprise. "Then . . . are you coming with me?" The Keeper hadn't left the island in over a thousand years. His body, though looking young and fit, was old. While he was still powerful, he had definitely missed his prime.

"No, I will be watching from here. I called in a favor."

"Eh? What favor?"

There was the sound of a neck cracking behind him and he froze. "Long time no see Snow Top," a voice giggled from behind him. His pale eyebrow twitched in loathing. This . . . was so not awesome.

* * *

><p>His bronze eyes shown happily as he dashed ahead of his German Meister. It had been so long since he left the island, he almost forgot how beautiful the rest of the world was! Dressed in a white shirt-sleeve and the blue slacks of the academy uniform, he looked to the high buildings; classic of Italian styles. He felt at home, hell he practically was! Just because it wasn't Florence, so what; this was Italia! This was definitely his home, and the sights and the smells and the sounds fit to him perfectly. "Ludwig," he called back, "We have a couple of hours before nightfall, let's get something to eat and go sightseeing!"<p>

"This isn't a vacation Feliciano!" the blonde shouted, causing the shorter boy to yelp and look at his feet stiffly. "We're here for a purpose, so we're going to fulfill our mission and head back, understood?" The Italian nodded fiercely, despite his empty tummy. And all the aromas of good, gourmet food; it was so tempting! Ludwig interrupted his longing thoughts, "Right, so according to the information Headmaster Honda gave us, the Kishin is most active in the heart of the town just after dusk, so we best be going."

* * *

><p>"<em>Just as I had hoped."<em>

"_Do you think HE will be here?"_

"_He'd better be. Either way, those brats will give those armatures enough trouble to coerce an intervention."_

"_Will we show ourselves?"_

_A wicked smirk, "It all depends on how they'll hold out."_

* * *

><p>As the sky grew darker, Feliciano felt more and more anxious. He knew he wasn't an enviable weapon, so how would Ludwig wield him in combat! He started worrying his bottom lip and fidgeting with his shirt.<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>You're a special weapon, regardless of your form. It takes on the shape of your emotions. Be confident and your form will reflect it."<em>

* * *

><p>That had been lesson number one after Gilbert took him in. That had been a lesson he had mastered . . . only with Gilbert though. Gilbert had never made fun of him, or joked about his misfortune. In contrast, the face of pure horror that Ludwig displayed at the ceremony was engraved into his memory. But this was his time to prove himself! His bronze eyes glowed with fierce determination, this was his only chance and he would prove himself!<p>

They walked down the virtually empty walkway, reaching their destination; the only ones out were the shadier people of the town. The lights flickered overhead and the two stopped, looking up to the wavering shadows. A feeling of tingling jolts ran down Ludwig's spine, a feeling he had never felt before. It was somewhat similar to the pleasant feeling of his contact with Feliciano, though this was aggressive, antagonistic towards him. "This way!"

The Italian quickly followed, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt the aggression as well; it encased him in a sticky paste that slowed him down to the point that he could call it a dream-state. They turned the courner to the central square; the corpse of a prostitute lay on the cold stone slabs. That was something they had been taught in class: Kishin kill in silence. A hideous body of a creature no longer human in being hunched over the scantily dressed woman, its eyes was small in comparison to its grotesquely fat head, the black orbs bulging out from their sockets, being encroached upon the rolls of blubber. The mouth stretched out practically to the ears; thin, pale lips closed over dozens of sharp, tiny teeth. The torso was stout and round, looking like a bloated, old Basset Hound dressed in a pinstripe suit, a matching fedora perched on its head.

A fist-sized blue orb engulfed in a cool flame floated through the bust of the corpse and levitated there, in need of being collected by the Keeper. The Kishin's lips dripped with thick saliva, the grubby, worm-like fingers grasping the Human Soul with both hands before a long, indigo tongue snapped it up like a frog with flies. Feliciano grasped Ludwig's arm, his hands clamming up from anxiety. He had to fight _THAT_ thing!

"The God Father?" Ludwig asked in disbelief. This was an older Kishin, having been illusive and toned down in its actions. Not only that, but it was a Two-Star ranked target! He was only a one star! What was this!

It growled in surprise, sounding like an obese asthmatic after running a lap around a swing set. Lumbering to its feet, it turned slowly, sizing the two of them up. _"All these years and they send one team of children to come after me?"_

"God Father, you are warranted for death by the Keeper of Souls. As agents of the SWMA, we are here to fulfill that punishment," Ludwig challenged, his voice even and confident, despite his internal unease. "Feliciano!"

Feli flinched a moment, but his brow furrowed as he set his mind on confidence. With Ludwig, they could definitely win! Grasping his partner's hand, he could feel the other's Soul Wavelength match to his. Now that the Italian thought on it, that was unusual. In a sudden burst of light, Ludwig stood, armed with his Weapon. The German's blue eyes widened in surprise; at the opening ceremony, Feli had been a simple wooden pole with a white flag tied by the courners. This however . . .

He stood, armed with an iron wrought handle and an elegant white flag, a spike carved into the end. A slow smirk crossed his features, sure it was still a white flag, but it was – and dare he say it – lethal. The image in the reflective surface showed Feliciano punching the air enthusiastically. Yes, yes, yes! He _did_ have it inside!

There was a wheezing laugh from the Kishin as the rolls of fat writhed. The beady eyes seemed to grow bigger, pushing farther out of their sockets. Ludwig's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as numerous sharp, spindled legs sprouted from the bloated body and arms, the wide mouth grinning, quite literally, from ear to ear; every tiny, pointed tooth on display. _"Such children, they must have wanted to be rid of you. No worries, your souls shall fill me up quite nicely,"_ the long, slick tongue flickered over the deformed lips, _"Yes, your souls are so powerful, so erratic. You haven't a clue to control them. I will happily take them from your very bodies!"_

One of the spider-like legs shot out at them and Ludwig jumped out of the way, using their combined souls to control the accent and decent of the lunge, propelling them far out of reach of the attack. The stone of the courtyard shattered as a crater was born from the impact, leaving a hole where they had been but moments before. "Come now, where is all that skill and experience you hold God Father? I guess you just can't keep up with that grotesque body of yours," Ludwig taunted, landing on the top of the fountain in the dead middle of the square.

"_Uwwwaaaah! Ludwig, don't make him mad!"_

An arm stabbed at them and Ludwig flipped away once more. He had no trouble controlling the jumps, but controlling the input was so much harder. Feliciano's Soul Wavelengths were strong, stronger than anything he had ever been prepared for. Landing on his feet, crouching low to the ground, he spun the staff in his hands, "Now we're going to get serious." He rushed forward, knocking back another attack with the handle, sparks flying from the contact. The blue eyes were aglow with the excitement, blocking the jabs. Twisting and spinning, using the momentum of the Kishin's strikes to knock the drill-like feet out from under the beast, Ludwig slowly gained ground towards their opponent. Feliciano couldn't help but note the grin stretched across the younger boy's lips, it was so reminisce of Gilbert. In the end, one couldn't deny their blood relations.

The God Father knew his time was running out. They fit well together, fighting him back easily and causing his fat body to teeter on the pinpoint ends of his demon legs, the long arms not helping with the balance. The German's grin widened as he saw his chance to break through the defenses. He jumped atop one of the more stabled bases before shooting up into the sky, the white flag reflecting the brilliant glow of the waning moon. "Die you pathetic wretch." He brought his weapon down, spike-first, upon the Kishin's head; added with his downward momentum made the end lodge itself deeply inside the skull. A horrendous gurgling scream filled the night air as the fibers creating the hideous being unraveled and exploded, leaving Ludwig to land neatly on his feet; Feliciano returning to his human form. Admittedly, he felt a little dizzy.

As the body disconnected and the rest disappeared in clouds of smoke, a red orb encroached upon by scales. The small ball of dark power slowly fell to the ground and into Feli's waiting hands. He smiled broadly, his empty stomach growling, "Thank you Ludwig, for such a wonderful present!" He brought the soul to his lips and ate it whole. He sighed a heavy breath; nothing filled the body like a soul did~!

"Well, since our mission is done, we should be heading-."

"PASTAAAAAAAA!" Feliciano cheered, running towards a random, large plate of spaghetti. Ludwig's brow twitched, when did _that_ get there!

The blonde grabbed Feli's shirt collar, "DON'T TAKE THINGS THAT YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THEY CAME FROM!" he shouted in a form of outrage. This kid would get into a car if promised candy! And to think the German was the younger of the two, it was very ironic.

* * *

><p>"Something's wrong," he could feel a sudden increase, as though another Kishin was appearing. There was something different though. This was why Kiku sent them.<p>

"Yeah, I feel it to. Get ready Snowball."

"JESUS! I'M NOT A PET!

* * *

><p>Feliciano felt invisible hands reach longingly towards him, emotions conveyed through the projection of the soul. Loneliness, sadness, need, want. He could feel all that and more; what caught him was the connection made between the two souls. They were practically the same. Ludwig felt something quite different . . . very different. Hate, aggression, loathing, the list went on. The sound of a gunshot rang out and they dodged just in time, Feliciano one way, Ludwig the other.<p>

"You've surpassed my expectations," a taunting voice from above called. The two students looked up to see two young men standing on a church roof; one looking strikingly familiar to another young Italian.

Feli's bronze eyes widened as the darker-haired young man, "_F-Fratello_?" This was the brunette's BROTHER! Ludwig's eyes widened as he felt something else around the boy. Like a snake coiled around his soul.

"Feliciano, I will set you free from this glorified servitude. Do not get in my way." In a flash of white, the other transformed into a long pike whose origins dated back to the thirteenth or fourteenth century Italy. Was this really Feli's brother!

"Sorry, but you heard what he said," the other man said, smiling weakly. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes and strain written all across his brow. Despite this, he deftly spun the weapon in his hands. "It's nothing personal _amigo_." Ludwig swore he only blinked, just for a nanosecond, but in that time the Spaniard was mere inches from his face. Who were these people! The pike rose for a swift blow and there was nothing Ludwig could do about it. Feliciano was so far away and looking utterly petrified, he would be useless in a fight like this. Suddenly, sturdy, comforting arms wrapped around him and propelled him away from the strike.

Ludwig looked up to see a young woman with flowing, mousy brown hair with two flowers pinned into the wavy locks. Her green eyes were fierce as she smirked, "You really are a Beilschmidt, aren't you? Danger just seems to love the two of you." They landed back near a wall, Feli rushing to his Meister's side. The Spaniard tisked his tongue, he just needed to be faster. "Gilbert!"

How had Ludwig completely not see the glowing red eyes that loomed in the din of the shadows. A brilliant glow, the next thing Ludwig saw was a large, eleventh century axe in the woman's hand. The blade was broad and narrowed down to a thin edge, crosses engraved into the metal. The weight appeared nothing to her; they must have been a close team. "Rebels Lovino Vargas and Antonio Carriedo, you are marked for arrest and trial by jury in Soul City by the Keeper of Souls, Kiku Honda. As top Meister, Elizabeta Héderváry, I take great pleasure in turning you in."

Antonio's smile lessened slightly, his eyes glazed in annoyance. He was just supposed to kill the German boy. Whatever, he could still kill this woman. The name Héderváry rang a very familiar bell. In another flash of light, the pike transformed, yet again, into a small handgun, "You talk big for such a pretty little lady."

Ludwig's breath caught in his throat. He only thought Gilbert had multiple transformations! The young woman grinned broadly, sadistically, "Let's dance."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I got some fanart for this lil story here! check out the link my darlings! **http: / / animewolflover(DOT)deviantart(DOT)com/ art/ Hetalia-Souls-Fanart-gift-212179499


	4. Chapter 4: Devil's Deal

He was quick to adapt, changing his focus so quickly from his primary objective onto her. Antonio Carriedo, the _Lightning Meister_, was definitely one to be wary about, his inhuman speed the least of her problems.

"_He's stable so far,"_ her partner assured her, the silver blade flashing in anticipation, _"But there's something bothering me about him. He might set off at any minute, so try to do this as fast as you can."_

"Naturally," she smirked, taking the handle in both her hands. He crouched lower, watching her with a careful eye, heavy shadows hanging over his bright green eyes that took on a reflective light of the moon. The tension was bursting in the air sparks flickered, but it was only a matter of time before the fire struck. She stood, prepared for his move; she didn't have to wait for long. The light exploding from the muzzle flashes were enough to blind her momentarily, though it was also enough for her to deflect the soul bullets with a deft flick of her wrist.

"_Shit, look out to your right!"_

Swinging the heavy blade to her weaker side, she just barely knocked his weapon aside. Her own green eyes widened in surprise, she hadn't even noticed they had switched out weapons yet again, having already been disorientated by the rapid flashes pervious. The iron halberd's top pike inches from her face as the small axe head battled with her larger weapon. Elizabeta grit her teeth, hissing under the strain. With his inhumane speed added upon his already superior physical strength, if he snapped she was in for some majour trouble.

"Brother!" two voices called out from a distance, the students having retreated from the main battle due to their obvious inexperience.

Swiping the handle of the axe up towards her opponent's face, following the arch with such strength that the entire weapon spun in the air, forcing him back. The way this man moved was fluid, but in the most unusual sense. The moves flowed almost like a dance. He came at her, retreating to using his staff as she had, but instead of forcing her away, he used it to herd her closer. Attempting to sweep pass her defenses, her twirled behind her, only to have the large Germanic axe swing in a downward arch from over her shoulder to a position where she could swing it in a full circle, keeping them distanced.

* * *

><p>"<em>This is getting us nowhere!"<em> Lovino shouted at his Meister, fuming dangerously. Transforming in a bright flash of light, he knelt on the ground, glowering at the two who had interrupted his mission. All he wanted was his little brother and that Meister **gone**! Maybe, if he could transform into his gun mode, they could distract the hag long enough to -.

His hazel eyes widened, adjusting to the darkness of the courtyard, the sun approaching the horizon slowly. The night is always darkest before the dawn. He had been watching his brother carefully all this time; he knew the Weapon he was matching with was Feliciano's beloved teacher. And the blonde was his new Meister, but that meant there was not a strong relationship between them. Yet there he was, amber eyes wide, glossed with tears as they stained his face.

"Lovino, Angéline is waiting for you," Antonio whispered, his hand up by his ear where the headset was discreetly blended into his brown locks, "She and Ryker are awaiting any orders. She also says the witches are becoming impatient."

"Damn these bastards," he growled angrily, head bowed and hiding his eyes, "We're falling back, just for now."

'_I went about this all wrong, I am so stupid! The absolute fuckin' worst! Rushing in like this, from nowhere, Feli, I'm so sorry.'_

* * *

><p>"What's going on over there?" Elizabeta murmured, the Italian had reverted into his human form. Naturally, it would be too easy to attack now, but that wasn't in her sense of justice, nor her partners. One reason they had been as compatible back in the day.<p>

"_Like hell I know,"_ he replied, obviously wary of their next move, _"If the Spaniard snaps, we're in deep shit."_

"This isn't a victory on your part!" the Italian shouted, his brow furrowed deeply, "I will get my brother back!" With that, he ran, launching himself into the air with a skillful control of his Soul Wavelengths.

The Spaniard turned and followed after before turning back and smiling gently, "I guess we'll continue our play date another time. Take care~!" He disappeared into the dark sky, moving so fast that his blurred shape was virtually nonexistent in the lightening sky. Sighing, she turned to the students as her partner retook his own natural form. Ludwig stood, ridged, having witnessed his first actual fight. The horror of possibly fighting others like that was sinking in. Kishin came in many different forms, even as humans. Feliciano knelt on the ground, tears in his large eyes, torn between two sides and yet filled with fear and relief.

"Lovi . . ."

* * *

><p>Gilbert couldn't look his brother rightfully in the eye, guilt gnawing at him, but at the same time he felt it was justified. Having returned to the school four days ago, Ludwig had not said a word to him. It had all been a ploy, a trap and he allowed his little brother to be the bait. Even worst, he couldn't lie to his face and say it was all a test, Ludwig wasn't stupid, nor was he forgiving. The room was entirely silent, the blue eyes staring angrily out the window.<p>

"Ludwig . . ."

"I do not want to hear excuses."

Typical. "Then I guess I should be on my way." The older Beilschmidt sighed, standing and walking to the door, his bird sleeping on the top of his head in the mess of silver hairs. He paused a moment, hand resting on the knob of the door, "I'm sorry." With that, he slipped out into the hall and the door closed quietly behind him. With the gentle click of the door, Ludwig's expression darkened, he was used by his own brother as bait . . . what pissed him off more than that was the fact he did nothing, though he saw so many places where he could have done _something_. And with Feliciano the way he was . . . the Italian man had not come out of his room for days. As it was, the blonde was hungry. Standing, he settled for traveling down to the school's cafeteria. Grabbing his blue uniform jacket, he went along his way.

* * *

><p>Alfred's head was slammed unceremoniously onto the tabletop, his brow beaded with sweat and eyes half-mast from exhaustion. To his left was Matthew, equally worn out, but forcing himself to remain erect and not copy his half-brother's blatant display. "It huuuuurts!" the American whined, his face half-shoved into the table. Oh the horrors of practice. Across the way there were the group of Meisters, even the oh-so-special Ludwig Beilschmidt had arrived and was sitting quietly while the other two groaned about their own pain and strains.<p>

"I know," Matthew sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I hate you Alfred, if you would simmer down and compose your Soul Wavelengths, Ivan and I would be able to sync with you, idiot!"

The blue-eyes weapon shot up, faster than the other two thought possible, "_**MY**_ fault! What about you! If you could just up the beat we'd be wonderful! Ivan syncs with me **JUST FINE**!"

"Would you two bloody gits quit the shouting and let me rest my pounding skull. You have it easy compared to me, stuck with a perverted French git. Neither of you has any right to complain," Arthur growled, his emerald eyes flashing signs of death and torture.

Oh the horrors of school. The three gave a collective groan and settled back down, Alfred with his forehead perched on the courner of the table, Arthur with his face buried in folded arms, and Matthew holding up his head weakly. Across from them, the two compatible Meisters sighed, having heard the entire thing since the newbies were not so quiet about it.

"Why did I have to be paired with such an abusive prude?" Francis wailed, his hands held up to heaven beseechingly, "Even if I jest and make a friendly, teasing pass at him, I get his fist implanted in my nose!"

"I have two entirely different weapons," Ivan sighed gently, "I can sync well with them, but only one at a time. To try both, it feels like I am being ripped in half and the balance always shifts one way or another."

The two Meisters sighed once more in unison, their shoulders slumping under their figurative weights. "What of you Ludwig?" Francis called over to the silent arrival who had only been sitting there and listening to their complaints, "I cannot imagine your Weapon has very many uses . . . other than to signal the end of the match."

"He's not quite as useless as that," Ludwig muttered, still sour from what had happened the day before, "Depending on his self confidence, the match can be utter humiliation or go entirely my way."

"Have you already gone into combat class?" Ivan asked, his large violet eyes looking up from under his dark blonde eyelashes. Ludwig pondered whether or not to explain his situation, though it really was none of their business. Settling for secrecy, he simply nodded. "Uwaaah!" the Russian buried his face in his hands, "I'm still only in the beginners' class! Even Francis has moved on to combat! At this rate I'll stay back there forever!"

"A little dramatic today are we?" Francis asked, smiling with some strain behind the action.

"There are only three, THREE groups in the Beginners' Class, and I am the most behind! If I can't find a way to sync both weapons, what am I going to do?"

Ludwig cocked his head and lifted a brow at watching the usually calm Russian go through a breakdown. In his already gloomy mood, it was sadistically amusing. "Can you not continue just using one at a time?"

"_Nyet_. If I use one, the other become jealous and they start bickering back and forth. I hate when people fight," he groaned, mimicking Mathew's position across the way. Once more, all at the two tables gave a collective sigh.

* * *

><p>"Care to tell me what <em>that<em> was!" the younger witch shouted, her voice grating on his ears. She wore a shin-length black dress with the trademark tall, pointed hat; a small violet flame flickering above the tip, growing larger from her agitation. It was all she could do to not strangle the Italian, or rip out his windpipe, or make him spontaneously combust.

Lovino refused to look at her, staring out the tall window of the gothic castle they had taken as their refuge, "Feliciano was crying; I refuse to be the cause of his tears."

"Ah~," Angéline cooed from the windowsill across the room, her short blonde hair bouncing cutely around her face, held back by a green headband, the ribbon tails tied under her hair in a dainty bow. "Lovino, you're such a kind and good big brother. But it's nice that Feliciano knows you're alive."

"In the worst possible way!" he barked back, though he knew she was only trying to help, "God, I'm such a stupid bastard. I didn't once think about how Feli would feel."

Leaning against the banister of the long stairway, a young man with spiked blonde hair and blue-green eyes, a blue and white striped scarf draped loosely around his neck, sighed, "What is your main objective in this crusade of yours Lovino? Is it to kill the Meisters or free your brother?"

"Can't both be achieved at once?" Antonio asked from the top step, looking down on the group, "If we kill the Meisters, then in a sense Feliciano would be free."

The blonde man sighed irritably, "Let me rephrase. Is it to kill the Meisters or keep your brother's happiness? You can't have both in this case, so what do you plan to do?"

"Ryker!" Angéline scolded, wagging her finger at her older brother, "That's not fair, making poor little Lovi choose _now_. Give him some time."

"Time is something _we_ do not have!" the witch from before shouted, her blue eyes flashing and long platinum hair twisting around her lithe frame, "You wanted your brother and the Meisters dead, we want the Keeper. Remember? You help us, we help you. We already gave your Meister unimaginable power, so what do _we_ get in return? You had the top Meisters stalling; if you had only used the spell we could have captured them!"

"The Weapon was Feliciano's teacher," the hazel eyes looked away, boring into the stone floor.

"So!"

"So that's all that matters!" he shouted back, jumping to his feet.

Her hand snatched out, grabbing Lovino's neck and holding him up off the ground. She was smaller than him, but far more powerful. Antonio jumped from the top of the stairs; ready to protect his partner only to be stopped by the other Witch by a sphere of black fire shot from her hand, two more poised at the others of the team.

"S-sorry!" she whimpered, her own large, sky blue eyes watering, "But I can't let you intervene."

Lovino struggled in the hag's grasp, there was no way she would seriously kill him . . . right? "Listen closely you worm, I have my own purposes in mind for them. You and I had a deal, _remember_? So I dearly suggest you keep up your end of the bargain." With that, she tossed him carelessly to the stone floors. "Follow, we're leaving. Remember our deal Vargas, or you may not like the outcome."

The two black clad women turned, walking into the shadows and disappearing into the inky blackness. Lovino lay sprawled on the ground, coughing and struggling for air, glaring at their backs weakly. Oh how he hated those witches, but they were right, he owed them big time. Antonio knelt beside him, the Italian, for once, not too proud to bat him away.

"What are you going to do about them?" Angéline asked softly, eyes darting timidly to where they had left.

Ryker returned to his leaning position, though he was tenser than before, the moonlight filtering through the windows reflecting off the white scar running down his forehead. He was no use in close combat, something that had always irritated him and made him feel useless, especially in these sorts of situations. "All we can really do is give them what they want: The Guardians and the Keeper."

"All I know at this point is that I made a mistake making a pact with the Devil's bitch," Lovino spat, regaining his breath, "But it's too late to do anything about it now."

* * *

><p>Feliciano didn't know what to feel, or how he felt. Relief? Happiness? Sadness? He couldn't quite pin his ever-changing emotions down to one set standard. He was overjoyed that his older brother, after thirteen years apart, was still alive, especially after what had happened . . . But then his brother had tried to kill Ludwig. True, they didn't have a tight knit bond as some would have expected, but they were still new to this! And then Gilbert <em>knowing<em> his brother was alive . . . he felt lost, confused, slightly betrayed. He didn't know who to turn to. Ever since they were young, Lovino had taken care of both of them. Found them food, shelter, protected him.

* * *

><p><em>"Lovi," his little brother called softly from behind him, the strain against his arm from the younger's sheer weight was adding every moment they continued on, but despite his sore muscles, he kept walking. "Can we stop a moment? My feet hurt."<em>

_"No, not yet. The sun isn't up yet Feli," his eyes not once falling behind. They silently navigated the ghettos alleyways, his own feet sore and the forming blisters stinging with every step. Suddenly a hollow thump pulled him back, almost hurling him onto his back. He cried out in surprise, his voice echoing off the high walls. Indignant, he turned to his brother who lay sprawled on the hard stone. "Feliciano! We can't stop yet!" he hissed under his breath. They had been walking days, stopping when the sun was in the sky and starting as it set, not sleeping well during the bright hours and food hard to come by._

_Feli sniffled and looked up to him, tears running down his dirt covered face, pale from exhaustion. "I-I can't. I'm sorry fratello, m-my feet hurt too much." He looked at his own feet, relaxed, demanding a rest. Lovino, though still obviously upset, sighed._

_Kneeling in front of his younger brother by four years, he held out his hand, "Gimme your foot dummy," he grumbled, though his grasp was gentle as he untied the shoes that were two sizes too big and slipped them off. Feliciano grimaced, hissing through clenched teeth as the cool night air hit his open wounds. The blisters that had been forming over the past few days had burst and were oozing blood and pus. Feli's amber eyes watered again, they hurt and looked so bad. "Don't cry," Lovino commanded, though the harsh tone wasn't present in his voice, "We left that place so you wouldn't have to cry anymore, remember? I know it hurts Feli, but no crying. It makes big brother sad, do you want me sad?"_

_"No," Feliciano whimpered, wiping the salty tears away on the heel of his hand. He watched as his older brother pulled off his vest and tug viciously at the threads until they frayed apart, pulling the fabric into strips. Though it was filthy, dirt and sweat soaked in every fiber, it was the best they could do. "Where are we going big brother?"_

_"Somewhere far away Feli, somewhere where we'll always be together and no one will ever want to take you away. And no one will hurt you or use you or be afraid of you." He carefully knotted the two ends before turning, hoisting the other onto his back. Lovino grunted under the weight of the other, Feliciano whimpering. "You go ahead and sleep, I'll carry you."_

_"But aren't I too heavy?"_

_Lovino looked up at him, his face showing annoyance at the unneeded question before looking into the tear-filled amber eyes. The colour beginning to slowly return to the younger's face, though it was more of a flush from his crying, nose red as he sniffled pitifully. Giving a small smile of reassurance, he turned back to the dark alleyway, as bleak as their future. "Don't worry, I'll be fine." His feet stung with the added fifty or so pounds of the seven-year-old, but after swallowing his hiss of pain, he continued on._

* * *

><p>Burying his face into his drawn in knees, he kept his tears hidden, "Lovino . . . I don't know what to do . . ."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh my, I feel horrible for leaving you all hanging for so long. You can all beat me now T^T But I'll be updating all that I can while I'm on break. Please bear with me everyone!**


	5. Chapter 5: A Fog of Guilt

The chinking of metal against glass as they ate dinner in a silence that hung as an ominous weight over the three. Timidly looking between his two weapons, Ivan felt his stomach curl up and brace itself for the thick atmosphere to shatter into chaos. The two brothers hadn't talked to each other since their last group session with their mentor Yao. It was, of course, a complete failure, and the two had erupted into a huge argument which led up to where they were now. The animosity was only wearing away on the Russian, who didn't like it when two friends fought. Why couldn't they just get along? They were so radically different, it was no wonder they were having troubles syncing all three together.

Alfred was so extroverted, flamboyant and loud. He was an attention seeker, someone who waned to be known and loved. Matthew was introverted, the exact opposite. He blended in against the walls, never starting conversation on his own accord and fine with where he was. That was perhaps their greatest difference that only seemed to widen the rift between them. Matvey was perfectly content in his place, not striving any harder, not placing in more effort. The younger American, on the other hand, was completely bent of excelling in all that he did. Ivan just happened to be stuck between the two, being pulled in both directions. He didn't want to leave one weapon behind, but nor did he want to hold back the other. Violet eye glancing between the two over his spoon, he sipped the creamy broth of their intant-chowder meal. It was something with clams in it . . . or so the American assured him.

Now it was like living in a casino and every action was a gamble between agitating either of his two roommates or stepping on an emotional landmine. He might as well not venture any farther, but to leave things as they were was only asking to fan the flames. As it was, the two sitting across from each other wouldn't even look up from their bowels. He could either let this tension fester until they all went loony, or he could make them face this problem head on. Dropping his hand with the spoon, the metal chinking on the glass bowel, eyes closing as he sighed.

"Fredka, Matvey," the two froze and looked to him, ignoring each other entirely. Frowning darkly, he stood defiantly from the table, "I am tired of your childish bickering, until such a time as you two reconcile, I will ask Professor Yao to suspend all classes. There is no point in me putting in any effort if neither of you will, and I seem to be the only one who cares about this team." Turning on his heels, he strode away, leaving everything the way it was, the two brothers more confused than anything.

The American was the first to react, whipping around and glaring at the other across the table, "What do we have here? A little snitch? What have you been doing, crying to Ivan in the middle of the night so he'd baby you? Too scared to face me like a man?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Matthew sneered, "I can deal with my own problems without throwing the burden onto others, unlike someone at this table."

"I can do anything I set my mind to! I haven't told anyone about anything, so that just proves you wrong!"

"And he's upset at me too, idiot, so that obviously blows your half-cocked accusation out of the water too, genius!"

"Are you implying that I'm stupid?" blue eyes flashed angrily behind the glasses lenses as Alfred stood up, hands slamming on either side of his empty bowel.

The elder scoffed, "I don't see any reason to imply it, the more you talk, the less I have to say. It's a real mystery how you ever got this far in the academy."

"Half the time it took you Mr. Tortoise. You shouldn't even be here. If I hadn't dragged you along, you never would have found your Meister and you'd still be in the academy like last year."

Violet burrowed deep into azure, daring him to repeat himself as the usually passive Canadian slowly rose to his feet, holding in the sting that comment brought forth, "That was low Alfred. God, how can anyone stand being around someone like you!"

"I don't know, how about you try turning it around for a second? There must have been _some_ reason mom left you!" Alfred shouted back.

The room instantly became silent. A pin dropping would have been like a bombshell as Matthew stared with glossy eyes at his younger brother. Even such an implication was taboo between them, but he crossed the line. He broke the rule, overstepped the boundaries. Without another word, Matthew left the room, leaving Alfred alone in the kitchen with the dirty dishes. The slam from the front door was like a slap in the face, physically harming him as he immediately regretted what he said. Guilt tore into his gut as he sank back into his chair, burying his face into his hands, propped against the polished tabletop.

What had he done?

* * *

><p>The waves were peaceful as he looked out to the ocean, the light pink petals from the trees overhead dancing around him in the breeze. A puff of smokes left his lips as he pulled the cigarette away, the butt glowing with hot embers as he gazed out to the star-filled night sky. The moon was beaming, though not quite full, it cast long shadows on the cobblestone walkway behind him. He had even quit smoking. Clean for four years, and now this? Now Alfred- . . . Taking a long drag on the fag to calm his rising nerves, Matthew let it all out in a swirling cloud, trying to get <em>her<em> out of his head. He had no real memory of his mother, her having left when he was just about two years old, all he had of her were a scarce few home videos with her and his infant self.

He hated her, what woman could do what she did? One day, she just disappeared. Her clothes all gone and every sign of her existence erased from everything. In one night, without warning, she cleaned the entire house, packed her bags, and left before her fiance awoke, leaving her young toddler motherless. And then being called away to the academy, he had been content in solitude for twelve years of his life. Then two years ago, a twelve-year-old boy walked into his life. Mattie looked like his father, but Alfred looked like her through and through. It was like he was a reincarnation of her, and deep down, it pissed Matthew off. The cigarette rolled into his palm before being crushed in his grip.

* * *

><p><em>The crowds rushed pass him, being bumped and tripped, though no one seemed to take any notice of the young man they passed around rather rudely. It was fine, sure a bruise here, a swollen toe there, but it wasn't a big deal. He was used to be walking on. The hoards of new Weapons were all smiles, high hopes in their eyes. Fifty children from ages of ten to fifteen were flooding the narrow walkways, looking up to the tall brick buildings. Matthew knew that sense of awe that came with the old-styled town. Like stepping back in time to a distant place. The flowers were in bloom in the early spring weather, the cobblestone dusted in blushing velvet petals. It would have been peaceful if he wasn't being shoved into a wall as the kids rushed past.<em>

"_Jeez," Mattie sighed, irritated but glad the hoard had finally passed, so now he could take his time to the opening ceremony to greet the new chosen students. Being fifteen himself, he had already been enrolled for two years, and he seemed invisible to everyone, from the students to the staff. Skipping out on this ceremony wouldn't kill him. Shy and sweet exterior, but a rather cold and jaded individual underneath it all. After all, he was completely alone in this world._

_Taking a box from his pants pocket, he leaned against the wall, knocking a single stick from the cluster. Pale lips closed around the butt of the smoke, about to pull it out when footsteps pricked his ears. Hiding the box in his jacket p quickly, he looked up to the approaching figure, his jaw falling slack. For a split second his heart raced in anxiety, violet eyes widening as he took in the sunshine blonde hair, large blue eyes. He had seen those eyes before in home movies; dead, emotionless eyes looking into the camera, as though looking directly at him from years past. Backing away from the person, he had to blink a few times to change the image before him. Not a cold, stern-faced woman; but a beaming, bright-eyed boy who hadn't even noticed him, too engrossed in the scenic attraction. Just . . . he looked so much like her, it made his legs weak with fear. Who was he?_

_The new student was so engrossed by the old architecture and the beauty, he almost missed the upperclassman leaning against a wall, watching him._

Haze.

"_Alfred . . ."_

Fog.

"_Woman? . . . Liberty . . .?"_

Static.

_"Mother."_

* * *

><p>Throwing his head back, Matthew looked up to the dark sky. Thin veils of clouds from the ocean dimmed the light of the moon. Despair, that word described how he felt perfectly as he sat underneath a depressing fog as it rolled in on the waves. Chills rippled up his spine as he sullenly closed his eyes, scuffing the toe of his shoes on the cobblestone sullenly, he made his way back. He didn't want to return and have to look at Alfred any more than he already had to, but it was late and too cold outside.<p>

* * *

><p>"There is such harmful emotions stirring in this class, don't you agree?" Kiku asked as he stood by the window, watching as the young blonde disappeared in the thickening mist, having watched him from the second he left the building.<p>

Behind him, Gilbert also sulked, heart-aching over the denial of his brother. The Keeper wouldn't have taken the wild-card albino to be so dependant on someone else. He had never shown this side of himself, hiding it so well that even his Meister was taken aback slightly from the pain his soul radiated. The German never liked being alone, that was well known, but being dismissed by a mere child, ten years his junior, was comparable to killing him. In response to the Keeper's question, he simply grunted.

Sighing, Kiku turned to his youngest Weapon, "I can't read you my friend; your soul is in turmoil. You have not said anything since you went to speak with your brother, and your wavelength has become unstable."

There was silence in the dark room, the candles creating shadows that flickered and waltz, swaying to a fro with a silent orchestra. "I failed him."

"You followed what was said of you."

"You don't understand," Gilbert murmured, red eyes falling shut, "I succeeded under the circumstances of what you commanded, but on a human level, on an emotional level, I failed him. I failed both of them. I mean, I'm his big brother. I'm supposed to protect him, that's what every big brother is supposed to do. I haven't seen my baby brother for ten years . . ." Flat, dark eyes observed him, shrewdly, as though waiting for a punchline. He could feel the gaze as he sighed again. "I beg forgiveness, but you wouldn't understand without being in the situation."

". . . Perhaps not."

* * *

><p>Alone at the dining table, Ivan groaned. He had heard the fight the night before, but it wasn't any of his business about their personal life. Even still, their pasts may be the thing causing such a large rift in the team. A knock at the door draws his attention; looking to the clock, it was only seven in the morning. Neither of the brothers would be awake yet, so he'd have to answer the call. Trudging to the door in his pyjamas and loose scarf, the Russian was rather surprised to see his teacher in the hall, not looking very happy, but there nonetheless.<p>

"Ni hao Ivan," Yao smiled in welcome, even Ivan could see that it didn't touch his eyes, "How are you and the others faring?" With a heavy sigh, Ivan shook his head, not wanting to really speak about such unhappy matters, but still give an idea about how family life was going. He wouldn't have to suffer in total silence. "Not so good, aru? I had a feeling. If it was up to me, I wouldn't be here, aru! You kids need to work your own problems out, and be given the time to do so. I have no clue what goes on in that man's mind aru."

Ivan blinked questioningly, not understanding at all what the old Weapon was going on about. He didn't complain too much, but if he had something to go off on, it was common knowledge he'd go off on it to anyone within earshot. "Yao . . .?"

A paper, securely closed with a wax seal of a cherry blossom, was shoved into his face by a ranting Chinese man, "You have a mission assigned to you three, aru. I wouldn't have forced this on you if I really had much of a say, none of you are ready for this sort of thing. Aiyah, you would think he'd learn after the first time, aru!"

* * *

><p><em>A Kishin has been located on the West Coast of the United States. Your team has been chosen to handle this issue with one other team who is excelling in the upper classes. Try and use this opportunity to pull closer together, and good luck.<em>

* * *

><p><em><em>**A/N: I LIIIIIIIIIIVE!**


	6. Chapter 6: Silent Water

Perpetual silence: it's the noise that comes from the mouth of tombs. The sound that lingers in graveyards like fog, or looms over battle fields as smoke and carrion birds; such a chilling sound that the human body instinctively recoils from. Ivan had lived with it for days now, and he was feeling depressed and tired, his soul growing physically heavier from the negative energies radiating off his two partners. A partnership between Meister and Weapon was like that of marriage, that was what the Keeper had said at the opening ceremony, but here Ivan was with competitive sister-wives. Their souls were vastly out of synch with each other and their past, while he didn't really know much on the taboo subject, was only driving a larger wedge between them both and, in effect, him.

It was driving him crazy!

* * *

><p>How do you take back something that injured a person's soul? A measly <em>'I'm <em>_sorry'_ wouldn't cut it That would be like placing a band-aid on a bruise as the person hemorrhages internally. Even so, he wasn't a doctor; he couldn't fix the bleeding! Alfred felt anxious, guilt-ridden, and helpless. When going to Ivan for help, the Russian had told him that he couldn't interfere.

Useless Meister.

* * *

><p>It was childish; Matthew knew that. His mother left because that was how she was; his father called her the wind: wild, elusive, and happiest when unhindered. He was three years older than his American half-brother, and that was hardly anything really. He was a seventeen-year-old boy who felt deprived of love because his mother didn't love him enough, and he took it out on Alfred. He should be more mature than that, right?<p>

Nevertheless, he hated Alfred. He hated him so much for reasons that weren't the younger's fault. Alfred looked like her, with golden hair and bright blue eyes, a carefree smile and a personality who cannot be captured, just like the wind he was born from. Alfred could fly to her; he could find her and not be a burden, travelling and being unhindered by earthly luggage. It wasn't fair. . .

For anyone.

* * *

><p>And so they sat in complete silence as the PA screeched out that they had reached their destination, and Ivan couldn't help but bitterly smirk behind his scarf because, for the first time since they paired up, their souls were all in sync.<p>

* * *

><p>"Brother!"<p>

The shriek was both loud and unexpected, causing all three to jump before the tallest disappeared in a blur.

"N-Natalya, I didn't know we were meeting you. . ." Ivan managed from the vice-grip around his neck as the smaller girl clung to him, laying on his chest as he was propped up on his elbows.

"It's been so long Brother! I've missed you dearly, ever since we were paired up, I haven't had time to spend with you~!"

"Brother?" Alfred and Matthew asked in unison. Sure, the Meisters kind of looked alike with the same hair colour, and round, childish faces, but there was something. . . off.

Ivan gave the two a look that begged for help, to which both awkwardly looked the other way, Matthew smiling nervously while scratching his head and Alfred cringing and shrugging his shoulders.

Useless weapons.

"Ah, Natasha," Ivan choked trying to pry his little sister off, resulting in her to tighten her grip like a python, "Where is Katyusha?"

Huffing a sigh, Natalya released the older teen, getting to her feet delicately and dusting off her plaid uniform skirt before helping pull her sibling to his feet, to which he gave a timid _'Thank __you_'. "Right, she's at the city centre waiting for me. I am supposed to define what exactly your mission entails before we split up."

"Split up?" Matthew came closer, looking uncomfortable with the prospect.

The girl's face was aloof and stoic towards the two weapons, not even giving the Canadian a response, "As you should know, Brother, Kishin reveal themselves, usually, after dark, and have habits of revisiting previous feeding grounds as well as places similar in description. The Kishin you are looking for is the Wendigo, who is suspected of wreaking havoc across the North American-Canadian border. Yekaterina and I are only here to help you if it is perceived you will die without our assistance, but first this mission is to prove yourselves. We will be waiting for you, Brother, so work hard, okay?"

Ivan smiled weakly, nodding his head, "Right. . . Thank you Natalya."

She turned on her heels and stalked away, disappearing in the crowd of the Seattle terminal. It wasn't until she was out of sight that their Meister let out the tense breath he had been holding. For the first time in a week, the two brothers glanced at each other.

"Well then," their Meister cut into their moment, clapping his hands, "Since we have to search for this Wendigo creature in such a big country, I think we should split up. The two of you work together, da?"

"Ah! Wait-!" Alfred exclaimed, but the Russian had already disappeared in a passing crowd. Sighing nervously, having hoped Ivan would have stayed. It would have given the American more confidence if a referee were there. Turning to his half-brother, the blonde found himself alone as Matthew walked away. A spark of anger flashed through him as he ran after the other teen. "Hey! Where are you going?! We're supposed to be together!"

"Oh I'm sure you'd rather be alone, after all, I'd just be a hassle for you," Matthew answered back tartly, not bothering to look at the younger.

"You're just pulling words from my mouth!"

"Either you are stupid, or stupidly honest," the Canadian boy sniffed, "I believe the term should have been 'putting words in my mouth'."

"I- wha- . . . What you said! I mean you're putting words into my mouth! I didn't say that you'd be a hassle!" Alfred called, half-jogging to keep up with the taller teen.

Matthew tisked, "But you'd rather work with Ivan, wouldn't you? After all, I'd just hold you back."

"Mattie!" the American shouted, grabbing the other boy by his blue blazer and pulling him back, digging his heels in.

Passersby stopped a moment at the scene before hurrying around the two, muttering to themselves, causing Matthew to flush from embarrassment and try to pull his arm from the other, "Let go Alfred, you're causing a scene."

Teeth ground together, "No, you are!" the fourteen-year-old hissed, not even loosening his grip, "I'm trying, which is a hell of a lot more than you're doing Mattie!"

Sapphire held amethyst in a duel of silent domination, depths of blue ignited with burning embers of frustration, trying to melt the cold, purple ice. It was Matthew who looked away first, frozen apathy turning into guilt. Alfred could be hurtful, but he didn't mean to be. He sighed, nodding his head, "Right; our Meister asked us to work together."

"And I'm sorry. . . About what I said. . . About Mother," the younger spoke softly, surprising his brother, "I know that won't fix anything, but I needed to say it, at least so we can move on from it."

Matthew chuckled, surprising Alfred by the action, "Maybe you're not as stupid as Arthur wants to make you out to be." The American was dumbstruck as the other continued on to the parking lot. "Are you coming, or have you been added to the decor?"

"Hey! Wait! What has Arthur been saying about me?! Mattie! Tell me!"

* * *

><p>The chamber was a dark tranquil blue as Yao entered, the pool in the centre dark and the surrounding candles were unlit. "Kiku?"<p>

"I'm here, as always," the Keeper sighed, sitting on the windowsill, looking out over the island with tired eyes. "I must be old, old; every takes more out of me."

"Is it coming back?" the Chinese man asked hurriedly, snapping his gaz to the deceivingly calm water.

Kiku shook his head slow, tiredly, "Even if he were to try, his physical body has already been engulfed by the universe, but every time I go back and forth; I as though I lose something very important. I remember less, am more tired, and I just wish to sleep and no longer wake." Chocolate-coloured eyes were shielded by a pale hand as he looked up to the mid-day sun, squinting from the harshness of the light. "I would not miss the dawn, nor long for the stars, but I cannot part for some time. Is it odd that knowing my life is still ahead of me is the most depressing thought?"

"The new Keeper still has not awakened; you should make the most of your time left, Kiku. The sand in your hourglass is low." Despite being older than the Japanese man, Yao sympathized with his Meister. They had spent a long time together, but while he had none of the signs of ageing, he was watching the man he had come to consider his brother deteriorate before his eyes.

"You will stay and care for my successor, won't you, my friend?"

A frown tugged at his lips, "I would rather pass the final barrier with you, friend."

Slipping his hands thoughtfully into the wide sleeves of his robe, Yao watched his life-long partner on the windowsill, a real-life Rapunzel, trapped here, the inner-chamber, just to keep alive, unable to wander from this cursed pool.

To be the Keeper was such a pitiful existence.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Writer's block is a bitch and I'm a Whore . . . rible person (Nostalgia Critic reference). I am so sorry, I have had the idea to write this chapter for FOREVER and I just lost all inspiration to write anything. But it came back! Yay~! I am so sorry it isn't, like, 7 pages long, but it's something. *hides in corner of shame*.**


	7. Announcement

Hello, you may have figured I must have died eons ago. No updates in over a year almost, nothing quite substantial. I apologize. Many of my stories are being discontinued for various reasons, mainly because my sense of literary refinement that has developed over time no longer allows me to continue due to their poor quality. Of this list includes:

_A House Divided_

_Loving It_

_Singing Through Bars_

_Song of the Century_

_Bewitched_

_The Cage_

_Not Like You_

_Fallen Heart_

* * *

><p>However, I have not quit. Over this extended period of absence, I have been outlining remakes of certain stories that deserve better andor more.

_Waving Flag_

_Don't Leave Me Here_

_In this Diary_

_One of Nothing_

_Code Geass_

Please be patient, I will soon have a first chapter out for my new work within the next month or two. I sincerely apologize. From now on, I will carefully plan works and not start too many that I cannot finish. Here are some peeks at the new, refined, mature style you will be getting soon.

* * *

><p><em>Dance Among the Loti <em>(Waving Flag Remake)

"Many things fade," he spoke in a near whisper, his voice heavy with weariness, as though he carried some invisible weight, "Youth, beauty, good friends, even memories. Eventually, even the fact that once we existed tapers off to a mere whimsy of a person glancing at a name upon a gravestone, realizing it means nothing to them."

* * *

><p><em>Crimson Tears of Lost Souls <em>(Don't Leave Me Here Remake)

Gunfire rained around me, seeming to bounce off the fog itself; it was thick enough, so I couldn't say I would have been surprised had that really been the case. It came from all sides, from out of the dismal gray, screams and distorted commands drowned out in the orchestra of explosions. Now and then, from the corner of my eye, I could just make out dark figures in the distance before they slipped just out of view. Sweat beaded under the helmet, rolling down my brow and the bridge of my nose, despite the chill of the bog. I made to swipe it as a figure appeared, this one staying. Rolling my shoulders, lifting the rifle that seemed to suddenly gain another twenty pounds, I took aim. Something was very wrong, he walked with a wide stance and appeared unarmed, shuffling right past me, seemingly more interested in something else, not even noting my existence. The second I tightened my hold around the trigger, a cold sense of dread filled me; I knew immediately I had made a terrible mistake.

* * *

><p>I hope you will come and see my new works as they come out and continue supporting me and them. I hope to entertain you on an entirely new level than the works you have seen so far. Thank you.<p> 


End file.
